My Secret Relationship
by Carie Valentine
Summary: Dasey. The ups and downs of the secret relationship between the stepsiblings as told from Derek's point of view.
1. Love Through Discovery

New Author's Note: I hated the way chapter one turned out, seriously, the tense changes multiple times and it was just not up to my standard of writing so I went back and fixed it. It is now him at twenty-one looking back on how everything began and then flashes forward to the "present," at least I hope that's what happens… Reviews Awesome.

Original Author's Note: This is my first "Life With Derek" fic. (I usually write Final Fantasy VIII fics). If it does well, I will continue to post what I got. So if you read it and like it, let me know. Reviews always welcome, good or bad, just so long as it is constructive. As always, thanks to Jesse Static for the editing. She is awesome. That's all.

Chapter One: 

"Love" Through Discovery

When we were sixteen, my step-sister and I started… a fling, I guess. She was still "with" Sam, my best friend. But she was actually with me. Their romance fizzled out months before; At least for her. That's why she hooked up with me. But poor old Sammy boy thought all was right as rain. Such nieveness. She was only using him as a cover. It would've been hard for me and her to "carry on" if our parents knew, or our siblings. I almost felt sorry for him, almost.

It's not like we could sneak off to the other's house when parents were out; we lived in the same house. The ideal situation of, "my parents are going out of town this weekend" would've never happened, if they knew. We would have never been alone. Not to mention they were and still are holding out for us to be brother and sister like Edwin and Lizzie are. That's not happening now. Not after what happened between us almost two years ago.

It would be stupid of me to say I never saw it coming. Oh boy did I and was I hoping it would. My God, with the sexual tension that had built up between us, how could you not? I knew though, that it would never happen. We were too alike to do anything but bump heads but also, too alike for it not to happen. We were both spoiled and used to getting our own way. But Princess Casey was no match for King Derek. I mean seriously, king trumps princess, always. It's historical.

If you're looking for an exact moment for when my attraction to her started, try the first day. But if you want an exact moment for when I wanted her in a less than brotherly way, good luck. It was during the party when we were stuck in the bathroom fighting with shampoo and toothpaste, or whatever it was. It was that English project we did together and her risking her lacking social status to get me a better grade. It was the glorious Babe Raider day, when I saw Casey than I ever had. It was the day she chose Sam and my heart broke. I can't deny that fact, Lizzie saw my face. I do know this however, after one particular heated fight over the remote, things got a little out of control.

I was sitting in my chair watching TV on a Saturday morning. Well not really, I was kind of surfing around for anything that didn't suck. Then out of nowhere, Casey comes in and yanks the remote from my hand and changes the channel, taking a seat on the couch.

"Give that back," I demanded, reaching over the chair. She quickly pulled the remote from my reach.

"No, you've had it all day, it's my turn."

"I haven't been awake all day," I said launching from my seat and retrieving the remote from her clutches. "Besides don't you have homework to do?" I returned to my original position. She let out a cry of anger.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Casey lunge at me, but I was quicker, and jumped from the seat, leaving her in a heap on my chair. But to my surprised she recovered quickly and clamped a hand on the remote. She stood and we began a tug-of-war thing with the remote.

"Give it to me, Derek," she demanded, I could see her face now clearly red with fury.

"Watch it, Klutzilla, wouldn't want you to bust your ankle again," I challenged, clearly overpowering her in this power struggle.

"Oh that's mature," she yelled. All I can tell you about the next part is, when in a tug-of-war situation on hardwood floors, wear shoes. Because, before I knew it, Casey had managed to lose balance and we were both on the floor, hands still clamped on the remote.

"Nice move, Klutzilla," I said, trying to hide the pain I was in. Now I am not saying she was heavy, but I don't care who it is, when you break someone's fall, pain is inevitable.

"You are so annoying," she squealed in anger, trying to get up and pull the remote with her. However, I was smarter than that and yanked the remote and her back on top of me. That's when our lips connected. And I am not saying that in a romance novel way, that's just how it happened. It was awkward, you can imagine, but neither of us pulled away. Then again, when you kiss me, you don't want to pull away. There was none of those movie glorified fireworks, I don't believe in that crap, it just felt really good.

It got less awkward though as our fighting continued. I mean it's not like right after that kiss we were like, "hey let's date." No, we did what anyone would do in that situation, pretend it never happened. We went back to our normal thing, I make fun of her, and she pretends not to be annoyed by it and so on. But there was still like this tension between us, I mean thick. It was like every time she looked at me I knew all she was thinking, "Oh my God I made out with him a few days ago." Outwardly though, it was like it never happened.

We avoided each other for a month. But of course it didn't last. We couldn't ignore that the kiss was really nice and soon all of our fights ended with my tongue in her mouth.

Take for example this one time she burst, without knocking, into my room and started bitching at me about leaving my hockey gear out for everyone, meaning her, to trip on. So I yelled at her that if she would watch where she was going it wouldn't be a problem. Then she said something, then I said something, then BAM, she was under me on my bed and my tongue was exploring the wonders of my step-sister's mouth.

I was surprised, to say the least, when she told me she wanted to continue... whatever it was. See, she never saw me as the "sweet guy Sam was." No, she saw me as the jerk who objectified women and went from one to the next without sticking to just one. Just because I played the field and had posters of half naked hot chicks on my wall doesn't make me a bad guy. Ask any of the girls I went out with. I mean some woman objectify men. I am ogled by girls all the time, do you hear me complaining? Okay, that one time her friend, Emily was watching me swim in her pool, but that was like stalker watching.

You really can't consider what me and Casey had a relationship. I mean we really didn't or couldn't go out on dates. All we did was hang out without fighting, make out and eventually have sex. Nope, never mind that seemed like the usual Derek Venturi relationship. But I don't sleep with all the girls I "date." I have standards, there are some girls you just make out with but don't sleep with.

I would be a liar if I said I was in love with her. I was seventeen; I was in love any girl that let me discover the mysteries of what makes guys and girls different on the old couch. Oh if that thing could talk.

I loved the way she made me feel when we fought and… other things. With her, I actually had to work for it. For the other girls, all I had to do is smile and bam, puddle. Well, that's all I still have to do, really.

The key to any good... whatever you call what that was… is fighting. Trust me, going to bed angry can lead to good things, especially when you're parents are out of town.

Oh, what a weekend. Parents out of town on honeymoon, the little kids in their rooms sleeping soundly and the doors shut, and me and Casey on the old couch discovering more differences. Well, for her anyway. Apparently good old Sammy boy just couldn't seal the deal. I did, and that's why I am really the King of Babes.

I came downstairs after a short struggle to get Marti to bed and there was Casey, waiting patiently on the couch. The TV was the only light filling the room. She was still mad about an earlier argument; I don't remember what it was over anymore.

"Marti asleep?" she asked not turning to me.

"As soon as her head hit the pillow," I answered, hopping over the back of the couch and into the empty spot beside her. I grabbed the remote and muted it before turning to kiss her. She quickly pulled away and looked at me.

"I am still mad at you," she said.

"Shut up," I replied and moved my head back to kiss her. She didn't complain after that. It had been a very long time since we had gotten any alone time. Finals were coming up and Casey had to over-prepare as usual. Not to mention Dad and Nora lurking in every corner. Not that they were suspicious or anything, it's just they seem to pop-up out of nowhere when we finally thought we had a moment. So we were both very desperate for this.

Slowly, while my tongue explored her mouth, my hand wandered up her shirt as it always did in those kinds of situations. To my surprise, this time rather than her insisting I keep my hand on the outside of her shirt, she moaned into my mouth to proceed. Pressing my luck, I moved my hand up the bottom of her bra, groping at her soft breast. This led her hips to trust upward into mine, which, in my mind, was the best move she could make.

At this point I knew there was a ninety-five percent chance I was getting lucky; so long as the five percent chance I say or do something stupid or she over thought it, didn't happen, we were good. That five percent disappeared, of course, the moment I felt her hands start to undo my belt.

When I felt her failing to undo the piece of leather, I relinquished my tongue and hand, sitting back on the couch. She laughed silently at her inability before I moved my hands to help her. I think you can figure out what happened after. Sorry, but I don't feel like describing my sexcapades with my step-sister to a group of strangers. You understand.

We knew whatever it was couldn't last though. I mean we were just young, hormonal step-siblings who carried on in secret. Like I said, it's not like we could be seen in public together and with alone time being very limited, things tend to just, fizzle out, you know? And it didn't last. Before long there were more and longer fights and less make up… anything.

Months after the fact, Casey decided that there was no way it could work out. She was tired of sneaking around and cheating on Sam. God, what a freaking girl. "What if I got pregnant or something?" she asked. Ha, could you imagine me getting her pregnant? How cliché and over-played would that have been? As for the "or something," I was not and still not gonna try and figure her out on that one. "Or something."

"Are you serious?" I asked her, my eyes bugging out of my head with disbelief. "You are worried about getting pregnant?"

"Well it does seem to be a side effect of sex," she replied in a "duh" kind of way. I mean it's not like we were having sex all the time, and we were always careful about it. But, we called it off at seventeen. The spark, the excitement, the romance, the thrill, the lust, was dead. Bitter emotions replaced those that died; Anger, spite, resentment. Then words altogether stopped. One year after that and she moved away to her fancy college.

I stayed back here. Even with hockey no school could offer me a scholarship with my GPA. "Liability," they called it.

"You see, Derek," the coaches all told me, "the school can't offer you money for a sport where it's liable you will be ineligible to play because you are on academic probation."

They doubted me. Looking back, I guess I couldn't blame them, with my previous track record. But at the time I was so pissed. I guessed not everyone is willing to give you a chance to prove your past wrong. Benefiting the doubt is too risky to some people.

Without scholarships, no one would accept me. Except of course Community Colleges. My dad was slightly disappointed I couldn't go to a "real college." But he was happy I was going to something that ended in College.

She came home for winter break. Despite the separation, tensions were still as thick as the day she left. I spent that entire break in my room or out of the house. Dad and Nora didn't notice that me and Casey were never in the same room together for too long. They did notice that we only spoke to each other when absolutely necessary.

"The best way for us to not fight," Casey told them when they finally noticed, "is to ignore each other."

They protested it at first, saying we should try to work out our differences. They didn't know the half of it. But after a while they stopped, because the fights did.

By the end of next term, I got a well enough paying job and moved in with a hockey buddy downtown close to campus. I rarely go home anymore.


	2. Of Girls and Cars

Author's Note: I hope you don't think I was copping out on a sex scene last chapter due to embarrassment because I wasn't. But as I sat down to write the one in this chapter it did get a bit awkward because, unlike video game characters, there are real people behind these characters so… You can see where that can get uncomfortable.

Anyway, thanks to my two reviewers from last chapter. I was hoping for more but whatever. But please do review everyone who hasn't I truly like hearing from you guys about how I am doing. I realize "Daseys" are really over-played but I want to know if I am doing a good job or if I need to pick out a new major. So please take like sixty-seconds to drop me a line. Thanks.

Oh, you didn't pick up the hint before, graphic sex ahead so, be warned. Which is why I had to move it to the "M" section. So, enjoy.

Chapter 2:

Of Girls and Cars

Now that you are all up to speed, I will start out where we are now. I am twenty-one years old and still in Community College, I know shut up. I still live with my buddy, in an apartment near campus. And it's been almost two years since I've seen Casey. I have avoided home whenever I knew she would be there. I always have a rock solid excuse; work, school, girlfriend, hockey, so they never questioned it.

I did go on dating after I "broke up" with my step-sister. I got over the "heart-break" pretty quick. I mean, like I said, it was bitter but just kinda ended. My quick recovery, actually probably caused a lot of the bitterness. I think Casey was jealous of that fact. And isn't it like a fact that you are supposed to be jealous of your ex's exs past and future? Ya know, now that I mention it, she stopped talking to me after I brought home the first girl after we ended. I don't know why she was so mad; it was her choice to end it.

Well, as I said I semi went back to my old ways of "playing the field." But this time I actually had steady girlfriends. I blame that on Casey. I had gotten a glimpse of what it was like to have just one girl and I kind of like it. But between those girls I dated, a lot. I mean how are you gonna find the right one if you don't shop around, right? You see, finding a girl is like buying a car, you don't just buy the first one you see because it's nice looking. No, you shop around, compare prices and test drive. Feel free to keep that.

Nora called me a few days before Christmas and asked if I was doing anything special for the holidays. Since I was between girls at the moment, I had answered, "no." And then she had mentioned how Casey wouldn't be coming home for Christmas this year, for one reason or another, I didn't care, and said it would be nice if she could have at least one of us home for the holidays.

I couldn't help but feel like they were settling for me.

"Oh well since Casey won't be here, we might as well settle for Derek."

But I couldn't think that considering every year they called to invite me to spend the holidays over there and every year I avoided them directly on Christmas for the past two years.

I decide to stay Christmas Eve there so we can all have Christmas bright and early the next morning. I arrive late-afternoon on the twenty-fourth just as the entire group of them are leaving to the mall for some "last minute" shopping. I am told I am not allowed to go. This leads me to believe they are shopping for me. They obviously didn't plan on me actually coming this year, and haven't shopped for me.

My dad tells me to just go inside and make myself at home and they would return in a few hours. Before the car is even out of the driveway, I am in my old chair, with a beer, watching hockey and ordering pizza.

Twenty minutes and a beer and a half later, the doorbell rings. I yell at the TV and pull out my wallet as I make my way to the door.

There she stands, suitcase in hand, looking ever more mature, if that's possible, and angry. Okay, honestly, who saw that coming? Because I sure as hell didn't. I am sure when I look back on this I will see how predictable this whole thing is, but for the moment all I can do is stare.

"What are you doing here?" I ask in disbelief as she pushed by me into the entrance way.

"What are you doing here?" she counters, dropping her bags on the floor and turning to me, her voice holding the same demanding tone as my own.

"I asked you first," I spat out stupidly without thinking.

She just stares at me. "Well I can see your maturity level has vastly improved. What's your next point going to be, "I know you are but what am I?""

"No," I reply coolly, "I was gonna stick to the good old, "Takes one to know one."" There is just something about her that makes my tongue sharp. She is the only one who brings this out in me. Sure, I have had my moments of good one liners in an argument with my dad, but nothing like the gold I spurt out against Casey. But she makes me feel so stupid at the same time.

Although this is not how I pictured my reunion with her to go, at least we are talking.

"Well, if you must know," she changes the subject before the argument heats up; deep down she knows where that can lead. "Alex and I were supposed to be spending Christmas with his parents, but he chose to be an ass and I told him to forget it. He would be alone for the holidays."

"Who's Alex?" I asked, I vaguely remember the mention of an Alex but never anything else. I should really pay more attention to when Lizzie speaks.

"My boyfriend," she replies as if she had just said, "Duh," instead.

"Well, you can't stay here," I inform her.

"Why not?" she asks, her face scrunching in disgust and anger, in her best, "annoyed with Derek pose."

"Because," I reply.

"Because why?" she challenges.

"Because I said so."

"Because you said so? You should really think about taking maturity one-o-one."

"You've got them the past two Christmases and it's my turn, that's why."

"Oh," she says with a bitter laugh, "I see, since we broke up we get joint custody and since you don't live here you get odd weekends and every other holiday, right?"

"Exactly, now get out," I say, pushing her toward the door. God I miss this. The challenge she presents. She brings out the best of the worst in me. She wiggles out of my grasp and turns to me. We lock in a brief stare down before the doorbell rings. She lets out a sigh of anger and stomps off to the kitchen. I chuckle a bit at her anger and open the door for the pimple faced teenaged delivery boy.

"One large pie, loaded, that'll be eight-fifty," the kid says pulling the box out of the warming thing. I hand him a ten and tell him to keep the change and quickly pull the pizza inside away from the cold air.

I set the pizza down on the coffee table in the living room. The smell of the warm crust and toppings filled the room. Casey returns from the kitchen with a glass of ice water. She sits down beside me as I stuff a piece of pizza in my mouth.

"Oh good, pizza, I am starved," she says casually, grabbing a piece for herself.

"That's not for you," I manage to say around my mouth full, and try to tug the pizza from her hand.

"This can be for all those times you never took me out," she says raising the pizza back to her mouth.

"Like hell it is," I cry, slapping her hand away before the pizza can reach her mouth.

"You know you can share," she says angrily, throwing the piece back into the box.

"I paid for it," I inform her, picking up my beer. She leans back into the couch and pouts, glaring at the TV.

"You are so greedy," she huffs. I can't help but chuckle, at her. She who called me immature not five minutes ago is pouting over pizza. I forgot how good she looks when she is pouting.

"Fine, you can have some," I relent, pushing the box toward her.

"Thank you," she replies, sitting up and taking back up the piece she claimed moments ago and taking "lady like bites."

We sit in relative silence after that point. I mean we've gone almost four years without talking, not to mention we technically are exs, so the whole talking without arguing is quite awkward.

"Oh come on. Where is the call on that, ref?" I yell, almost jumping out of my seat. Casey jumps at my sudden outburst at the TV.

"You know they can't hear you?" she informs me, as if I didn't already know.

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, but it makes me feel better," I mutter, standing up as the game goes to commercial. I go to the kitchen and retrieve another beer.

As I reenter the living room, I notice the channel is changed and the remote is in Casey's hand.

"Hey, I was watching that," resuming my place on the couch.

"Yeah and you left so it automatically goes to me. That was your rule wasn't it?"

"I was getting a drink," I cried in my own defense.

"You leave it, you lose it," she said matter-of-factly. I contemplate strangling her. No one knows she is here; I could get away with it.

I move to stand between her and the TV, she is watching intently. She turns to me and glares.

"Move," she orders, trying to see around me.

"Give me the remote then," I toss back.

"No." I glare back at her and snatch the remote from her.

"Derek," she cries jumping at me. I hold the remote up over her head, out of her reach and laugh. She unsuccessfully jumps for it. Suddenly, she jumps on me, her legs wrapped around my waist and she continues to reach for the remote.

"Get off," I yell, trying to wiggle her off of me.

"Give me," she screams directly in my ear. I drop my hand and try to unlatch her leech like legs from around me. She follows my arms around my back. I instantly realize the close proximity, our faces are now occupying. She must notice it too, as she suddenly, let's go of me, and drops to the ground. Surprisingly, she lands it perfectly.

I don't know what possessed me to do what I did next but, I know you are all hoping I would. The nostalgia of the situation, the opportunity too perfect and I pull her in and kiss her. She does not pull away or protest, either. Only a slight gasp in surprise.

I kiss her with the same enthusiasm as I had at the beginning of our old relationship. Her moans are still filled with the same amount of pleasure as I pull her down to the couch and into my lap. Our tongues rub together roughly, just like before but with so much more heat. It must be the absence.

She breaks the kiss shortly, only to rearrange herself so that she is now straddling me. I can't help but groan as her "area" grinds against my own as we continue to make out. I can feel her smile at this and she repeats that motion, getting the same reaction from me.

In my own retaliation, I reach my uninvited hands beneath her shirt and grope her chest. It is larger and firmer than I remember. She does not protest this either. I push her bra out of the way and move to kiss her neck. Her skin is still unbelievably soft.

"Derek, we can't do this here," she says breathlessly, as I set to work on a hickey.

"Why?" I manage to get out.

"Th-they, oh God, might come home and see us."

Typical Casey, always thinking of the consequences, never just enjoying. I groan and pick her up off the couch with me. She wraps her legs around me as I shuffled to the stairs. I think if she knew how hard it was to make out and walk with someone wrapped around you, she would have had no problem with staying on the couch. But, of course, she doesn't, so she laughs at me while I trip a few times walking to and up the stairs.

I slam her into the nearest wall when I finally get up the stairs. I need the rest. I know where this is headed, and I begin to kick off my shoes, while I have her pinned against the wall. Again, a lot harder than they make it seem on TV. She too has the same idea, but for her it's easier, she is not supporting the weight of someone else.

"Your room or mine," I ask quickly, between kissing her mouth and her neck.

"Mine," she groans. This is probably a good idea. My room has not been lived in for two years; it hasn't been cleaned in ten.

I stumble into her room, trying to set her down gently on the neatly made bed. She refuses to let go of my waist and I fall on top of her. Her hands are franticly moving over my clothes, as if she can't decide which to remove first. She doesn't realize we have hours before anyone will be home. That urgency that was there in the past, that rushed feeling, the thrill of being caught at any moment was still present now.

"We've got time," I tell her, looking directly in her eyes. She nods and kisses me again. Her hands, slowly moving to the bottom of my shirt and pulling it up. I allow her to take it off. What happens to it after this, I don't care.

I move to kiss down her neck, until I hit the top of her shirt. I pull away and move her shirt up a bit, exposing her stomach. Slowly, I plant kisses down her stomach down to her pants. Her hands run through the hair on the back of my head as she purrs.

I smile knowingly; she will be making a better sound when I show her all the things I have learned since we broke up. I want to show her that breaking up with me was a mistake. But at the same time, not a complete waste of time.

I make quick work of her pants and anything beneath them. A skill that I can't help but hope impresses her.

Without warning, I plunge my tongue deep within her, and slowly search for that special place that will extract the perfect moan from her. When I find it, she moans and it is better than the siren that follows a goal in hockey. The best sound in the world.

Not long after this point I feel her release, which is followed by a loud, "Oh God, Derek," that I am pretty sure the neighbors hear.

I move my mouth back up her body, retracing the steps I took minutes before. My hands move with hers down the front of me to the top of my pants. I undo the belt, while she undoes the button and zipper, relieving some of the pressure. I pull out my wallet before kicking off my pants. I quickly remove the foil packet and tare it open, applying the contents.

I don't believe that it has been that long since she has last had sex, but move into her slowly all the same. Me and her moan at the same time, as I push into her completely. Soon we are moving together to achieve the same goal. Remnants of my earlier ministrations linger on my mouth as I kiss her.

She clings to me as I continue to trust into her, over and over. Moans of each other's names escape our mouths as we near our ends. Being the gentleman I am, I allow her to go first.

We collapse together on the bed, both well spent and covered in sweat. I pull her close to me and kiss her forehead.

"I miss you," I tell her.

"I miss you too."

I reach down and unfold the blanket at the bottom of the bed over our naked bodies before I fall asleep with Casey curled up beside me.


	3. Everything I'm Not

Author's Note: I am sorry I have been kind of whiney about the whole review thing. I feel like such a hypocrite, since for years I have been preaching about not writing for reviews. I think people freak out about reviewing stories that have sex scenes. No one will judge you, honest. But reviews fuel my creative process. I am a feedback whore. Just so you know. Plus, I've been getting a lot of shit from my friends about this story, because of that show that it's for. I was going to have this done like days ago, but I went home this weekend and I was like, "sweet I can do write it at home." Then I realize that most of it is on my computer back at school. But yeah. Thanks to all those who reviewed and added me to their favorite stories list and alert list and what not.

Oh also, I am trying to do this present tense since I wanted to try something new, since I hate stories in present tense. So there will, most likely, be a lot of tense errors. I know there are in the first chapter. I promise I will go back sometime soon and edit the hell out of it.

Chapter Three:

Everything I'm Not

I wake up, I can only guess, a short while later, Casey still wrapped around me. This is a luxury I never got the chance to enjoy years ago. Quietly, and quite reluctantly, I roll out of bed, careful not to disturb my dear, sweet step-sister. After finding and pulling on my boxers, I go into the bathroom to dispose of certain pieces of evidence and take care of some other necessary business.

When I return, Casey is awake and looking around the room, probably for her clothes.

"Hey," I call from the doorway. She stops dead in her tracks, clothes in her arms.

"Hi," she replies, turning slowly to face me. From the look on her face I can tell the outcome of what just happened is not good.

"Are you serious?" I blurt out stepping into the room.

"All I said was "Hi,"" she says looking at me as if I have grown another head out of my neck.

"You think this was a mistake," I accuse reaching down at the foot of the bed for my pants. She pulls on her shirt angrily and glares at me.

"I have a boyfriend, Derek." Her voice drips with something to suggest that this is all my fault. I don't know what I expected her to say, but that wasn't it. Responses are now running through my head as she looks for her pant.

"Yes, and you must take that very seriously, I mean you did just sleep with me after all."  
Her head snaps up from under the bed. I can feel the fury radiating off of her. She quickly stalks towards me; it is a very sexy walk I might add. At least it would be, if she didn't look like she was going to hit me. She does hit me and I don't blame her. As guilty as I feel for saying what I did, I can't help but laugh at her and walk out of the room.

The door is slammed behind me, I can hear her cry, and my face drops the smirk. I blew it big this time. I run my hand though my hair and sigh. I turn back around to her door, stop and turn back around. I continue this move a few times before I get the balls to actually knock. Just before my knuckle hits the door, the doorbell rings from downstairs. Of course. I guess it's a good thing they announced their arrival home so they don't come busting in, in the middle of me and Casey fighting about just sleeping together.

I sigh again and jog down the stairs to let my family in with my presents. I yank the old door open and there is this wormy, blond guy standing there.

"No, thanks we are happy with our Godless ways," I say closing the door on the guy.

"Wait, is Casey here?" I hear him yell before I can get the door shut. I reopen the door. I know who this guy is in an instant. But I can't help but ask,

"Yeah, who the hell are you?"

"Alex Baxter," Casey's boyfriend says holding out his hand like he wants me to shake it.

"I'm Casey's step-brother, Derek." I don't shake his hand, only move and allow him in.

Of course Casey's boyfriend is more worm than man. The wire rimmed glasses hang loosely off his face, and he pushed them back up on his face every five seconds. His blond hair is neatly parted perfectly down the middle. His clothes make him look like my grandfather. This guy can't be any older than me but looks like the guys I see hanging out playing chess and talking to themselves in the old folks' home. He's nerdy. He's wormy. He's… everything I'm not.

"Casey never mentioned another step-brother," he says walking into my house and stomping the snow off his feet onto my floor. Ass.

"No kidding," I reply uninterested. I can see him sit there, sizing me up. I can hear his silent scoff at my wrinkled clothes.

"Yeah, they're only wrinkled because they were crumpled on the floor while I was doing your girlfriend hard," I want to say out loud but don't. I can't picture him and Casey making out, let alone doing what I just did to her. I bet sex between them is awkward, that's why she slept with me.

"Where is she?" he asks, touching his glasses back up on his face.

"She's upstairs," I tell him. "I'll go get her." I take off without a second glance and stop in front of her door. I debate whether or not to knock.

I knock quickly before just opening the door. She is crumpled up in fetal position on her bed, cuddling a pillow to her. I could be that pillow. Her head shoots up at the sound of her door opening. She glares at me.

"Get out, Derek," she yells at me.

"Prince Charming is here," I announce. Now her entire body shoots up.

"Alex's here?" she asks in shock.

"Yeah I thought he-"

She jumps off the bed and peaks out the door around me, trying to see if I've made a mistake.

"And you told him I was here?"

"Well you are."

"Yeah but-" she whines, she pulls away from the door.

"Do you want me to go tell him you're not?" I suggest.

"No, what's done is done." She pushes me out of the way and makes her way to the stairs. I quickly, catch her arm and pull her back.

"You don't have to tell him," I tell her quietly so wormy can't hear downstairs, incase he's listening.

"I didn't plan on it," she says, pulling her arm away quickly and gives me a "how dare you touch me" look. She walks away and disappears down the stairs. I stay upstairs, in her doorway. I don't want to be around when Casey and her boyfriend patch up whatever the hell they were fighting over. Probably something nerdy like homework.

I make my way into my room. I push open the door and am hit with a musty old smell. Like, my room hasn't been aired out in years, probably hasn't. There is a layer of dust on just about everything in here. My poor neglected room, I think as I walk over and crack open a window. Despite it only being open a bit, my room instantly drops ten degrees. I hear their muffled voices below me. I go to a radio I have left here and crank it out trying to drown them out downstairs with music. I don't want to hear them making up, if their version of making up is the same as mine. Doubtful, but just in case.

The room is soon freezing and filled with loud music, perfect sleeping conditions. I collapse on my bed and close my eyes. There is a knock at my door, before I can completely drift off. I groan loudly, to announce my annoyance at the interruption. I open the door, it's Casey.

"I'm leaving," she announces.

"Okay," I shrug.

"Don't tell my mom or George I was here. I don't want to worry them."

"Whatever," I mutter and slam the door in her face.

--

Christmas comes and goes. Everyone gets what they wanted for Christmas, I some kick ass new hockey gear from Nora and my dad and some other useless last minute crap. I miss being a kid, like Marti, getting all sorts of toys and neat junk. When you are an adult, you get practical junk. The best part, on the other hand, is you get too old and relatives lose track of what you like, so they just give you cash. The greatest gift of all. Well, money or sex. Or sex you don't have to pay money for.

But, things and quite typical and a boring. Casey calls around noon to wish everyone a merry Christmas and she will see everyone on New Years.

"Are you coming?" Edwin asks me as we play hockey on his new video game system.

"Where?" I ask, jamming the buttons on the controller in my hands with my thumbs.

"Our New Year's party. Ugh," he sighs dropping his controller in defeat.

"Goal," I cheer, jumping up from my seat on the couch.

"Can't. I have plans that day," I tell him, ruffling his hair and sitting back down.

A few hours later, I am shrugging my things through the door. I can't stay, I have to go back to my place. This place makes me mad. Not the people in the house, the house itself. It suddenly feels smaller, suffocating. Damnit Casey, you've ruined my childhood home.

"Are you sure you can't stay until New Years?" Nora asks.

"Yeah, I gotta work tomorrow," I reply.

"The day after Christmas?" my dad asks leaning on the post by the door.

"It's a rough world," I reply.

It's the day after Christmas, and I have to work. Apparently not everyone celebrates Christmas in this country, and all of these people want to eat out. By the way my well paying job is waiting on tables. I get awesome tips, especially from girls because I am hot. It's a fancy restaurant too; I have to wear a freaking tie. Unfortunately, if I screw up again, I am gonna get fired. Too many dishes dropped, too many things spilled, too many wrong orders, and so on. People are allowed to make mistakes, right.

There are fifty million other restaurants within a five mile radius of this place here and he chooses to bring her here. If I made it through today without getting fired, I will start believing in miracles. They are not seated in my section, thank God. There's one point in my favor.

I try to not look over at her while she eats with him and I serve other people food. But I can't help myself, she is dressed to freaking kill tonight. On her, less is definitely more. I catch her eye a few times, I wish I was him.

As I serve dinner to an old couple, I look up to see Alex, lean in to kiss Casey. She is giggling and returns the kiss. I look back at my table, smile, tell them to enjoy and all but run towards the kitchen. I grip the counter, and lean my head between my knees.

"Venturi," I hear my manager, Rick yell. I snap my head back up and turn angrily at him. "Go bus table fourteen," he orders.

"I'm not a buser anymore," I tell him.

"That's great. Go." I can't afford to lose this job so I go. God could this day get any worse.

It does, table fourteen is over by Casey and Alex. Shit. I try to ignore the feeling of her eyes on me as I approach the other table. I begin to pick dirty dishes off the table and put them into the grey plastic tub.

"Listen Casey, I just want you to know I am truly sorry about the way I acted the other day. It's just I have been under a lot of stress lately," I hear Alex say. I begin to work slower.

She laughs lightly. "Alex, I know you have told me over and over. It's fine, I told you I understand."

"No, no you don't understand, it's just I'm nervous because…" he trails off. The table is clear; I pick up the tub, now full of heavy dishes.

"Because…" she encourages him. I begin to walk away; I don't want to hear because.

"Casey MacDonald will you marry me?" he asks in a nervously loud voice. There is a loud crash following his voice and the room goes silent instantly. The gray tub unturned on the floor, broken plates and glasses cover the floor before me. Shit.

"Venturi," Rick screams coming out from the kitchen. All eyes are on me, I can only feel hers. Not the ones bearing into me by the short, red faced balding man before me, hers. "That is it, Venturi. That is the last straw, you are fired," Rick yells.

What can I say? I can completely speechless, and not in a good way. There are so many things I have wanted to say to this worthless runt before me, but I am blank. I want to cry, and I kind of want to vomit, but not because I've just been fired.

I remove the stupid green apron I am forced to wear and throw it on the mess of broken things. Without a word, I leave.

"Isn't that your step-brother?" I hear Alex ask on the way out.


	4. The Stupid Part of my Brain

Author's Note: Okay so first off I am playing around with the idea of going back and recounting all of this in Casey's perspective, as either the second half of the story or a bad sequel. This is not the last chapter or anything, I am just toying with the idea and figuring now would be the best place to stop and ask you guys what you think, since well you're the ones reading this crap so. You can drop me an email or a review saying yes or no on the Casey point of view and bad sequel or just shove it in as the next four chapters or so. This choice is ultimately mine but your input will help make up my mind. At this moment I am leaning towards no, for reasons other than I don't feel like it, but just thought I would bring it up. Also, sorry about the long ass quote below, it just fit so well with the chapter so... Anyways, thanks again so much for the reviews they make my day(s) better!

* * *

Chapter Four:

The Stupid Part of my Brain

"Is it still me that makes you sweat/ Am I who you think about in bed/ When the lights are dim and your hands are shaking as you're sliding off your dress/ Then think of what you did/ And how I hope to God he was worth it./ When the lights are dim and your heart is racing as your fingers touch your skin./ I've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck / Than any boy you'll ever meet, sweetie you had me/ Girl I was it, look past the sweat, a better love deserving of/ Exchanging body heat in the passenger seat/ No, no, no, you know it will always just be me"

-Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off – Panic! At the Disco

* * *

After losing my job, my roommate kicks me out. He knows I won't have enough money to pay next months rent and he is sick of covering for me. I am already down and he kicks me, that asshole and I introduced him to his girlfriend. That son of a bitch. And so I have to move back home, defeated and miserable. But of course they welcome me back with open arms. But I can't help but feel this is a big blow to my ego. I mean, it's days after Christmas, I am twenty-one, single, unemployed, living at home and now broke. Not to mention the whole Casey situation. This is not how I want to be spending my new year.

Speaking of Casey, I've managed to avoid her since my return home. I still have plans for tonight, so I won't have her or Alex ruining my new year. There is no buzz around the house, so it's obvious Casey hasn't told them about the proposal yet. The back of my mind is still holding on to the hope it's because she said no, still giving me a chance. You know the stupid part of the brain. The part that tells you things are a good idea when common sense says it's not. The part that obviously has no concept of pain. The one I listen to more often than I should.

I wake up to the sound of the shower running, I really have to go. I climb out of bed and into the hallway; everyone else's door is wide open. The door to the bathroom is closed; someone is showering, so my desperate need has to wait. Damnit. I make my way over to the stairs and begin to walk down them. Lizzie and Marti are fighting over the remote, some things never change.

"Cartoons," Marti yells pulling the remote to her.

"Soccer," Lizzie yells pulling the remote back toward her. Dad and Nora are conveniently not around and Edwin simply watches with amusement as his sisters fight over the piece of plastic. I begin to move to go down and break up the fight but stop, a smirk appears on my face. That means… I creep my way back up the stairs and in front of the bathroom door. Slowly, I try the handle, unlocked. It's like she is inviting me in.

I push the door open quickly and barge in. Casey's head immediately pokes out from behind the curtain.

"Derek," she yells, pulling the curtain close to her as I make my way to the toilet.

"Relax, I've seen it all before," I tell her lifting up the toilet seat.

"Get out," she squeals.

"Listen, I have to go. And this is the only bathroom not connected to our parents' room so."

"Don't you dare," she threatens. I ignore her and continue with my actions.

"Do you mind?" I ask her while she watches me. "I can't do this with you watching."

Her face scrunches in disgust. "You're so gross."

I wave for her to leave me alone. She rolls her eyes as she catches the hint that I am gonna pee whether I get her permission or not. She grunts in disgust and goes back into the shower. I smirk triumphantly.

"Don't you dare think about flushing that toilet either," she calls from the shower just as my hand reaches for the flusher. I contemplate just flushing it anyway and leaving, but I mean honestly, when is another situation like this gonna come up again?

I remove my shirt as I walk to the door and quietly hit the lock. I stop to admire the hotness that is her silhouette through the curtain. She has no idea I am still in here. I drop my pajama bottoms and stealthily climb into the shower with her. Her eyes shoot open when she senses me. I slam my mouth into hers, covering her screams of surprise and protest. She is unresponsive, of course and tries to push me off of her. I push her against the wall of the shower and grip her wrists, pinning them against the wall over her head. I only release her when her protests stop and her mouth responds to me. I knew she'd come around eventually. I mean, come on. Hard as she may try, she can't help but give into me and her feels toward me. I grip her around the hips and press my hardening self against her. Her hands run over and through my hair while she moans into me.

Then of course, there is a knock at the door interrupting me before I can take this farther. So help me-

"Casey?" I hear Nora call from behind the door. Casey stiffens and pushes me away from her quickly.

"Y-yes?" she calls. There is a panicked look on her face, whether by the fact that we are on the brink of her mom finding us together in the shower or the fact that she's given into me again, I'm not sure. I'm not gonna ask, "Hey Case, that look on your face…"

I move back over to her and begin to kiss and suck at her neck. I can't help myself, she's naked and wet and I am a guy after all.

"George and I are taking the kids to get some last minute supplies for tonight, okay?" Nora announces. Casey tries to push me off of her again, but I stand strong, forcing her to bite back a moan.

"O-okay," she manages to squeak out. I can't help but smile and move back to kiss her lips. This time she is more inviting.

"Oh and Alex called, he'll be here in ten minutes. See ya later." Nora mentions. Casey pushes me off of her, at the mention of Alex and ten minutes. Thanks Nora.

"Bye," Casey calls back meekly. There is a guilty look in her eyes. Shit, this little escapade is over as Casey scrambles from the shower, leaving me there in the cooling water with my deflating ego.

"What are you-" I shut the water off fast and step out behind her.

"We can't do this anymore, Derek," she cries, turning to me, now wrapped in a large white towel. I grab another towel and wrap it around my waist.

"Why not?" I ask as if it weren't the most obvious question in the world.

"Alex," she replies angrily pointing at the door as if he is right outside.

"So? You never had a problem sleeping with me when you were with Sam," I yell back at her. God I really hope they all have left by now.

"I'm not seventeen years old anymore. I love Alex."  
"And yet here we are." She hits me again and I know I deserve it again as I did the other time. I stand there as she storms from the room and into hers; the door slams. I am angry. I stomp off towards her room and throw open the door. She is standing in the middle of the room and quickly spins around to face me.

"Face it, Case," I say striding over to her. She is crying. I don't care. I need to get this out. "You will never be over me. No matter how many guys you "love" I-"

"I said, yes," she informs me through her tears and anger. My mouth shuts instantly. My fists clench. I am furious. She wants me. I know she does. Why else would she make out with me in the shower? Why would she sleep with me the other day? She backs away from me, seeing the anger in my face.

"You-" I pause thinking over my next word. No, ya know what, fuck it," I say. "Go ahead marry that fucking weasel." I grab her and pull her close so that my mouth is near her ear, my voice drops to an angry whisper. I can feel her shivering against me as my lips touch her skin. "But you know as well as I do, you'll be wishing it's me fucking you when you're with him. It will always be me, Case." I push her away from me and walk out of the room without looking back, slamming the door behind me.

I enter my room, slamming the door with double the fury used on hers. I crank on some loud music to drown out her crying. I want to punch something. I want to break something. The need to destroy in growing within me. I pace around my room pissed off. I let out and angry cry and try to put my fist through the wall that separates my room from hers.

There is a loud crack. I can't tell if it's from the wall or my knuckles. The pain feels nice. I remove my hand from the new hole in the wall, my knuckles are now bruised and bleeding. A wave of dizziness and nausea wash over me. I collapse onto my bed, inspecting my hand. I wait for the sick feelings to pass before standing up, blood coursing down my arm.

Despite the pain, I manage to dress myself with my left hand, but I still manage to trail blood everywhere. I walk out of my room and toward the bathroom. I turn on the faucet and wince when the water hits my hand. I carefully clean the blood from my hand and arm then wrap it in a towel. The gauze and large bandages are in the bathroom in the basement, I never understood why. I step out of the bathroom and back into my room and turn off the music. I can hear voices in the living room, probably Casey and Alex making wedding plans. No, it sounds like they are arguing. I walk down the stairs and stop at the landing. Casey is standing between the TV and Alex, who is seated on the couch.

"Who?" he demands standing up.

Casey's eyes flick to me quickly before turning away, but Alex catches it and turns to me then back to Casey.

"Oh that's sick. He's your brother for Christ's sake," he yells at Casey and points at me.

"Step-brother," she corrects in her defense.

"There's still the "brother" part connected. You people are disgusting." He turns and looks me over. Probably debating whether or not he should take a swing. "I'm leaving," he announces, heading for the door. Casey is frozen in her place. "I hope you and your three-headed offspring are very happy." The door slams behind him.

"Well," I say to Casey, who is staring at the door. "I think that was your most successful break up ever. I think he was cry-"

"He's right. We're disgusting people," she says quietly, still looking at the door.

"No he's not," I tell her.

She finally tears her eyes of the door and turns to look at me. "Yes he is. We're siblings, Derek. That's bad."

I walk over to her. I bite back the pain that shoots though my right arm and I put my hand on her shoulder.

"Okay first of all, he's full of shit and so are you for listening." She opens her mouth to say something; I hold up my left hand and continue before she can get a word out. "Secondly, we are step-siblings. Step. Meaning through marriage not blood. I mean I could see if dad and Nora had a kid together or something that could get strange but they don't."

"Yeah but-"

"No buts, Case. No blood, no foul. End of story."

She kind of nods an agreement. Her face scrunches as the towel around my hand brushes against her neck. She tightly grips my hands and yanks it off her shoulder to inspect it. I wince with pain. It's a good thing she is not going into medicine, she's rough. Although-

"What the hell did you do to your hand?" she asks unwrapping my hand, it is still bleeding and now purple.

"I punched a wall," I told her as her fingers run slowly over the back of my hand. It freaking hurts but it's blissful pain. She frowns, she knows what caused me to hit that wall.

"Oh, that's what that was," she says quietly referring to the sound she obviously heard when the wall connected with my hand. Whether or not she was still in her room at the time, I don't know.

"Yeah," I say taking my hand back, but she grabs it again. "Ow," I cry as the pain shoots through my entire arm. "Do you mind?"

"Sorry, it's just- it looks broken," she tells me running her hand over the parts that aren't bleeding. If she thought that in the first place why is she yanking my hand around? Doesn't she understand how painful shit like this is?

"It's fine," I say yanking my hand away from her, a bad idea. My teeth clench as more pain courses through my arm. My eyes reopen and she is looking at me with her, "you know I am right" look. I hate that look because she only uses it when she is ninety-nine percent sure she's right. There is still a one percent-

"It's not fine. Can you even make a fist?"

"Yes," I say quickly before actually thinking. She motions for me to go ahead and try. Damnit, I really need to start thinking before I speak. She watches me carefully as I try to make a fist. I grit my teeth; my hand feels like it is on fire. Her face is covered in her rightness. Bitch. I close my eyes, the pain is intense. I let out a loud cry of pain and stop. I am lightheaded. Fuck.

"That's what I thought," she says, picking her car keys off of the coffee table. "Let's go."

"Where are we going?" I ask, wiping the blood off from my arm.

"The hospital."

"What? No, I've broken bones before, the best thing to do is wait three days and if the swelling doesn't go down then you go to the doctor." She looks at me like I am nuts.

"Are you serious? That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard. Come on," she orders grabbing my left hand and dragging me toward the door.

"But, but," I protest without any actual argument. She turns to me.

"No buts," she tells me. She is using my own words against me. I can't help but feel like a pouting child. I hate hospitals.


	5. Good News and Bad News

Author's Note: Well, all I can say is sorry about the long update thing. I actually have been going out a lot with my one friend here at school because this green prison I can a dorm room is quite depressing. Couple this with loads of homework and writer's block and you have a two week waiting period. I did, however make this a bit longer for you all to enjoy. I was gonna make it a lot longer than this but that would have taken weeks. So that quote doesn't really fit this chapter so much anymore but just hold onto it because I think it fits the overall story.

Also I would like to shove a few plugs in here, one for the story, "Queen of Tarts" by my friend SouthernCharm22 and the other for, "I Won't Dance, Don't Ask" by Twister15 (who gave me free medical advice for this chapter), both stories I edit for but also very good stories. Check them out, if you haven't already.  
Again drop me a review and let me know what you think. Thanks to you who already have and I hope to continue to hear from you all. (It's never too late to start reviewing). I appreciate it. Again thanks.

* * *

Chapter Five:

Good News and Bad News

"I chronicled the days you made me want to live/ Memorize the way that it felt and then I turned it into this kiss/ Tonight I'm wearing my best smile and hope to make me worth your while/ I'll be the best mistake you'll ever make"

-Best Mistake –JamisonParker

* * *

This is not how I want to be spending my New Year's Eve, shoved between a smelly homeless looking guy and my step-sister in an uncomfortable emergency room waiting room chair. I'd really like to be back home in the shower with my step-sister. Recently single, step-sister. 

We've been sitting here for what seemed like days, even though it's only been an hour and a half or so. Names have been called off, one after the other. But from the looks of it though, mine won't be called until the New Year. I turn to Casey.

"Come on, let's get out of here," I beg.

"No," she replies, "not until we get your hand looked-" Someone's cell phone goes off, and the room goes silent. Like no one's ever heard a cell phone ring before. It's some pop song I don't know the name of. Casey scrambles besides me and pulls her cell phone from her pocket. It's no longer the one I gave her years ago for helping me in my time of need. Oh, how I miss those days. I like to call them the "foreplay days." Back when it was so painfully obvious she wanted me, not that it isn't painfully obvious now but, well you get the idea. Anyway that thing would be like a million years old by now. Plus I think she chucked that thing immediately after the break-up.

"Hello?" she asks holding the piece of plastic to her ear. "Hey, mom… No, we're in the emergency room… No, no, we're fine, Derek just- Mom, relax Derek just hurt his hand… He put it though a wall… I don't know why. He's- okay… yeah… I don't know… Alright… Alright. You too, bye." Casey snaps her phone shut and looks at me.

"What'd your mom want?" I ask as she pulls her coat on.

"She wanted to know where we were since I forgot to leave a note," she says.

I gasp. "You, Miss Responsibility forgot to leave a note before leaving the house?"

"Shut up, Derek. I'm not having a good day," she says rubbing her temples. I lean in close to her.

"You should have never left the shower this morning," I whisper suggestively. She elbows me away from her. "I'm just saying," I say in my defense with a chuckle. "This is all your fault." Why do I say these things? Her head snaps up and she glares at me. There is an angry passion in her eyes. Oh right. God I forgot how hot she is when she's mad.

"I did not tell you to punch that wall," she yells at me, gaining looks from people. Her eyes widen in embarrassment. I chuckle and lean back over close to her.

"Yes, but you are the reason I punched the wall," I whisper in her ear. She pouts; I know she agrees with me. I love getting under her skin and how I can make her think, no matter what it's her fault. Which it kind of is, when you think about it. I mean, if she hadn't brought up the whole Alex thing and felt bad about the whole thing then none of this would have happened.

No, no this is Alex's fault. If he hadn't brought Casey to the restaurant I worked at and proposed to her I wouldn't have dropped those plates and lost my job forcing me back home and into the shower with Casey. And if he hadn't called while me and Casey were in the shower, the argument wouldn't have happened and I never would have punched the wall. Hah, so it's all Alex's fault. I wonder if I can sue?

Man, I am bored. Waiting is painful, especially when there is nothing to do but wait. Couldn't they put out a magazine or two? Anything so I don't have to stare at other people or the walls. I am sick of reading hospital posters. Maybe I should-

"Daniel Harron," the nurse calls from the front desk thing. I jump up when I hear the "D." But slouch back into the chair after I realize it's not me. I can see Casey shift beside me, she must have had similar thoughts.

"This is so boring," she whines and crosses her arms in front of her. I lean towards her again to avoid being heard by anyone else just in case.

"I have a few ideas of what we could do to pass the time," I say suggestively. She quickly pulls away from me and hits my arm.

"You're gross," she tells me. I sigh, I was really hoping she would go for that. But I guess she is still very against sex in public. I sigh in disappointment and pull out my wallet and hand her the largest bill I have.  
"Here," I tell her, "go find like the gift shop and buy me a magazine."

She scoffs and glares at me. "No, I am not going to go buy you a magazine."

"God Casey would you just do it. I can't leave here. Buy something for yourself too for all I care, but that's all I got," I semi-yell at her. I am frustrated as hell. My hand hurts and I don't want to be here and now she's giving me attitude, it was her idea to come here. She has no reason to whine. She glares at me and opens her mouth to yell at me but stops. The angry look on her face drops and she swipes the money from my hand.

"I'll be back," she says with a sigh and walks off. I win, again. She rounds the corner and I lose sight of her. I am completely alone now. Crap. Waiting is even more painful when you have no one to talk to. I drum my good hand on my pant leg, trying to entertain myself until Casey gets back. I pull out my cell phone and look at the time; 1:54P, she's been gone about a minute and I contemplate calling her and begging her to come back. Wait, I don't have her new cell number, I need to get that from her when she- the phone vibrates. "Jack," it reads. Jack is the left wing on the SCC hockey team, just so you know.

"Hey," I answer coolly.

"Hey, Der. You're still coming tonight, right?" he asks.

"Yeah, well hopefully," I reply, holding the phone as best I can with my left hand. It's strange trying to hold something with the hand you don't write with.

"Hopefully? Man, are you like ditching me already? Com'on Bro, what could be better than a party at my place?" Jack asks pleading.

"I am in the E.R. right now and I don't-"

"Whoa, E.R. what happened, Bro?"

"Don't worry, I just hurt my hand is all and my step-si-mother decided I should get it checked out just incase." I never told anyone about Casey. Well I told them about her and our relationship in high school. But not her name, or that she is my step-sister, or that I have a step-sister the same age as me.

"Oh man, this isn't gonna affect hockey is it?" he asks with a worried tone. Oh shit, I never thought about hockey, if my hand's broken I can't play hockey. And this is the last year I am eligible for college hockey. If I can't play, I can't get scouted by the NHL or AHL. Shit.

"No, I don't think so. It'll be fine. I'll see ya later. Bye." I hang up quickly before Jack can say anything else. "Oh shit," I whisper to myself. I am in shock, why didn't I think of that before I hit that fucking wall. My hands are valuable, without them no hockey. Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT.

Suddenly, something blocks the spot on the floor I have picked out to stare at for the past ten minutes or so. My eyes focus on the paper thing before me. "I didn't know what you wanted so I got you a Sports- What's the matter?" I look up to see Casey holding the magazine out to me.

"Hockey," I mutter hopelessly.

"Hockey?" she asks retaking the spot beside me and drops the magazine into my lap.

"My hand, Case. If it's busted I can't play hockey," I whine, looking at her.

"Well so what, there's always next year," she reassures me. I know she is trying to be helpful but-

"You don't get it, this is my last year I can play. Next year I will be too old to play college hockey."

"Oh," she says not able to come up with anything better.

I shake my head and open the magazine in my lap and begin to flip through it. Football, boring, baseball, Goddamn Yankees. Here we go, "Who Has What it Takes to Make it to Sir Stanley's Cup?" Blah, blah, blah. What? How can they say the Maple Leafs have no chance? Stupid writers.

I slam the magazine close right onto my hurt hand. "Ow." Casey looks over at me, realizing what I have done and rolls her eyes.

"Idiot," I hear her mutter. I glare at her.

"Derek Venturi," the nurse calls. Finally. I hop quickly out of my seat and all but run over to the lady. Casey follows not long after. "This way, please," the nurse says emotionlessly. She leads us through the crowded halls, passed rooms of sick people. The gross sick people are coughing all over the place. My upper lip curls and Casey jumps closer to me as if I can protect her from the germs spit out by the sick people everywhere. The nurse leads us to an empty examining room.

"Okay, Mister Venturi, why don't you have a seat," the nurse says. The room is a dark and cluttered with a mess of medical crap. It's cold and smells like that soap they used to have in the nurse's office in grade school. "Wait, here and a doctor will be in to see you in a moment," the nurse says and leaves the room. Great more waiting. I jump up onto the examining bed while Casey takes a seat in chair in the corner. I look at the bed and then at Casey who is back to reading her magazine, some nerd magazine.

"So, Casey," I say playfully.

"No Derek, I am not going to bang you on the examining table before the doctor comes in," she says emotionlessly without looking up. Damn.

The door opens not to long after and an old looking man walks in. His hair is as white and his lab coat. He looks like he's a million years old, I wonder if this guy even knows he's in a hospital.

"Hello," he greets us both, looking at the chart. "Now which one of you is, uh, Derek Venturi?" He looks between me and Casey as if it wasn't obvious. I raise my left hand and give him a look because I don't want to say, "Are you fucking kidding?" out loud. The old man shakes my good hand and introduces himself as Dr. Marks.

"Let's take a look at that hand, shall we?" he says snapping on a pair of white gloves. I slowly hold my hand out to him. He peels the towel away from my hand, which sticks a bit and it hurts like a bitch. I can't help but wince, I hear Casey intake sharply on the other side of the room. I guess it looks gross to her.

"Wow," the old man says, "What happened?"

"I punched a wall," I tell him.

"A wall you say?" he asks in disbelief.

"Yeah," I reply.

"Why?" he asks, turning my hand over and inspecting it carefully. It fucking kills.

"I was angry," I tell him through grit teeth as the pain shoots through my arm. The guy looks at me then over his shoulder to Casey.

"Lover's spat?" he asks like he is accusing me of hitting Casey. Yeah like I'd fucking hit Casey, or any girl for that matter.

"Dude, that's my sister," I say trying to remain calm. The doctor's face turns as he realizes his mistake. Although what he said was only slightly wrong. I look up to Casey who looks hurt and angry. I know she wants to storm out of the room, but that might be suspicious.

"Oh," the old man says. "Well Mister Venturi the cuts are only superficial so I don't need to stitch them up."

That's a relief.

"However, I will need to clean it up and make sure you don't have any wall still in there. But I am gonna need x-rays to see if anything is broken."

"Okay," I say calmly, even though I want to punch this jackass in the face for suggesting I would hit a girl. What a jackass.

"Alrighty, I am gonna go grab something to clean and patch you up. Then I will take you down to the lab for your x-rays." The old man smiles and leaves the room.

"What the hell, Derek?" Casey attacks me as soon as the door shuts.

"What?"

"Wasn't it you who said, just a few hours ago, we're not brother and sister?"

"He got the wrong idea about us, Case," I defended.

"And what is the 'wrong idea,' Der?" she asks crossing her arms across her chest. I open my mouth but stop, I am only going to say something stupid. But she is waiting for my reply.

"He accused me of hitting the wall instead of you," I yell back at her.

"No he didn't," she replies. "He asked if it was a 'lover's spat.'"

"Yeah, but the way he said it," I say in my defense.

"Derek, he was joking."

"He didn't sound like it," I tell her.

"Oh my God, Derek. Are you that dumb you don't know what a joke sounds like?" she asks with a sort of a sarcastic anger. I open my mouth to reply but the door opens and the doctor is back.

"Okay, Mister Venturi, let's get that hand cleaned up, shall we?" the doctor says smiling, holding a tray of things, I don't know what they are. He cleans my cuts with a piece of gauze and some cold liquid that makes it burn like crazy. I bite my tongue so I don't scream. What? Dude, it really freaking hurts. I look over at Casey who is trying not to laugh at my obvious pain. Bitch.

"There we are, Mister Venturi. Everything looks good. No infection or anything," the old man says with that same doofy smile and pats my arm. Which also hurts. He takes my hand and gently wraps it with more gauze and tapes it together. The old doctor scribbles some things on my chart and then looks back up at me.

"Okay, I will send this request down to radiology and I'll come get you when they are ready. Sit tight until then, okay?" the old doctor says with a wink and leaves the room. I give the guy a strange look.

Great more fucking waiting. I sigh and fall back onto the bed. I stare up at the dark ceiling. Man, I am tired all of the sudden. The room is creepily silent. Casey is obviously still not talking to me. There is a buzz of something mechanical filling the room. But I concentrate of the sound of her breathing and my eye lids become heavy.

"Derek. Derek." I hear next. Someone is shaking me. I groan as I open my eyes. It's Casey. "Wake up. The doctor is here to take us to get your hand x-rayed now."

"Hmm?" I look at her like she is crazy. Then over to the door where that stupid doctor is standing. He smiles and waves a clipboard at me. Freak. I look back to Casey. "Oh right. Okay, let's go." I hop off the bed and trudge along behind the doctor and Casey.

The x-ray place is located on the next floor down. When we get there, a lab guy brings me into a room with a large x-ray machine and a bed below it. The guy gives me a chair to sit in and plops a heavy bib thing on my lap. He then grabs my bandaged hand and puts it on the middle of the bed.

"Can you stretch your hand out as far as you can for me?" the guy asks. I do as he asks but it hurts. "Good." He adjusts the machine so there is a window shape light thing on my hand. "Okay, now it's important you hold real still," he says like he is talking to a child. I am not a child, but I am still paranoid about moving. I can't even breathe. The man leaves and there is a mechanic beeping sound. He comes back and walks over and grabs my hand.

"Good, okay now I need you to flip your hand palm up," he says and moves my hand like I can't do it myself. Oh God, that burns. I grit my teeth and close my eyes as he sets up my hand how he wants it. I hear him adjust the machine again and leave and the machine beeps again.

"Good job, man. Now just one more." Oh, so now he is talking to me like I'm his buddy? He takes my hand and tips it on its side. He gently moves my thumb out of the way and resets the machine. "Perfect, hold that," he says and leaves the room. Another beep and the guy returns and tells me I can go.

I walk back out into the hall where Casey is waiting. Her face is emotionless and I smile at her, trying to get her to warm up to me again. She glares at me and Dr. Marks leads us back upstairs to the room I was in before; surprisingly it is still empty.

"It should only take about fifteen minutes to get your x-rays back so sit tight until then," Dr. Marks says and leaves us alone. Great.

"Listen Casey, I'm-"

"I don't want to hear it, Derek," she says cutting me off. She is obviously still pissed. I sigh and continue to sit here in silence. I pick up my neglected magazine and flip through it.

As promised Dr. Marks returns in fifteen minutes. His face is unreadable. Damn poker faced doctors.

"Well mister Venturi, I have some good news and some bad news."

Damnit, why can't it just be good news? I sigh and look at him to go on.

"Bad news is you have what is known as a brawler's fracture in your ring and middle fingers. This means that you've broken the metacarpals or bones in your hand that make up your knuckle." Well there goes the hockey season.

"Sounds cool," I tell him despite my disappointment.

"Hardly," the old man chuckles. "But the good news is that it's not severe enough to have to need surgery."

Actually that is good news. Very good news. "That's good," I say.

"Yes, indeed it is. However, I am gonna need to cast it to prevent you from further injury and making it worse. So follow me," he says.

We get up and follow Dr. Marks to another room down the hall. It is completely white but a lot more lit. He pulls out a chair and tells me to sit. I do and he grabs something that looks like a sock out of a cupboard. It's like a glove without fingers. He places it over my hand. He then places a rolled up piece of gauze between my two broken fingers and puts more sock material over them. Then he straightens my knuckles, I want to cry at the pain. Casey is watching everything with a nerdy fascination.

"Hold it just like that," he orders. Easier said than done, asshole. God this hurts. He then wraps the entire thing with layers of cotton. "Any preference in cast color?"

"Green," I tell him.

"Dark or neon?" he asks.

"Dark."

He nods and pulls out a roll of dark green cast stuff and begins to cover the cotton with it. It smells weird. I can feel it harden after a few seconds. Finally, my hand is set in a bad, "rock on" sign thing, except my middle two fingers are sticking out. The old doctor scribbles a few notes on the clipboard and then hands me a piece of paper.

"Here's a prescription for some pain meds."

"Thanks," I say taking the paper.

"And you're all set any questions?"

"Yeah, when can I play hockey again?" I ask.

"Oh hockey player, huh?" I nod. "Well certainly not anytime soon. But I can't tell for sure at this point. It can be as little as a year or as much perhaps three. Depending on how your metacarpals heal. But we will know for sure in a few months."

"Okay," I say. Damnit.

"Oh, I also, you need to make an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon for two weeks from today. Here's a list of the ones here and the referral." He hands me two more sheets.

"I thought you said I didn't need surgery," I say with a bit of a panic looking over the list of names. Stupid doctor lied to-

"No, ha, ha, I know that. But he will check on your healing process to make sure all is going well to make sure you don't need surgery," he explains.

"Oh, okay. Thanks doc," I say as me and Casey leave the room.

"Good luck," the doctor calls.

"Now what?" Casey asks as we get to the car. I shrug. I pull out my cell phone; 4:16P.

"Lunch?" I offer. Her eyebrows raise. "My treat."

"Okay," she replies in a slightly better mood than before. I don't know what made her less bitchy, but I don't care.


	6. Flirting with Disaster

Author's Note: I am so, so, so sorry about taking over two months to update. I am the biggest douche bag but I had finals to deal with, papers to write and portfolios to shove together, real college is hard. Not to mention moving back home, my twenty-first birthday (12/13 if you missed it), and of course Christmas. All of this while battling writer's block. Oh yes. And I got a new video game for Christmas so most of my free time is put into that. I did plan on having this up on the 21st of December to mark my five years at writing fan-fiction, also known as the, "Holy shit I have been doing this way too long" anniversary. But that obviously didn't happen. But oh man this fic is doing much better than I anticipated. This is by far my best received fic, ever in my five years at this crap. Thank you all for your reviews and patience. You guys rock. Honestly, I have never gotten this many reviews (per chapter) ever and I felt so bad with every new review and me not having anything written. But thanks to everyone who reviewed thus far (even those who just added my story to their favorites and alerts list), and thanks for sticking with my shenanigans. (This isn't the end of the story but you know I feel bad for taking so long).

* * *

Chapter 6:

Flirting with Disaster

"We're not sleeping, and I'm not breathing/ If this means anything at all/ I won't let you leave me anymore."

-JamisonParker –"Best Mistake"

* * *

I let her drive; my hand hurts too much to bother arguing. That stupid doctor never gave me any pain killers. Isn't he supposed to? Well, I'm not going back into that zoo to argue. I am too exhausted, to. I kind of just want to go home and take a nap; doing nothing for a long period of time is tiring. But I can't, Casey agreed to go out with me. I would be stupid to change my mind now.

"Do you have any pain killers?" I ask her as she starts the car.

"What?" she asks, not hearing me.

"Pain killers," I repeat holding my green covered hand. "I'm dying over here."

She scoffs, "You are not dying, you big baby." The set this girl has.

"My hand's broken," I remind her with anger shaking my hand in emphasis. A bad idea. She laughs at me again but suddenly stops. I think she is finally catching on that this fucking hurts.

"No, sorry I don't."

She must remember I am low on money; I haven't cashed any of my Christmas money yet, as we pull into a tiny restaurant not too far from the hospital. I get out of her tiny and "sensible" car and walk inside the place. Casey yanks open the door behind me and glares.

"What?" I ask, she picked out the place what is she so pissy about?

"You are supposed to hold open the door for a lady," she tells me as if I didn't already know.

I smirk at her anger and shoot back, "I'll keep that in mind next time I see one." I can't help myself, she makes me do it.

"Derek," she yells and whacks my arm as if we are sixteen again. I wince in pain as she hits my upper right arm.

"Two?" the hostess asks trying to ignore the fact we are fighting. Casey nods and she stomps off behind the hostess who leads us to a table in the back of the place. I take my seat across the booth from Casey.

"Your server should be with you momentarily. Enjoy," the girl says handing us menus and I smile politely before she walks away. Casey scoffs before I can look over the menu.

"What?" I ask, lowering the plastic covered paper.

"Can you go anywhere without flirting with a girl? Especially when you are on a date with me," she yells quietly at me. My eyebrows rise, what is she-

"I didn't say anything," I remind her, holding my arms up in defense.

"Com'on Derek, we both know you don't need words to flirt.

"But I-" her phone went off again.

"Hello? Hi George… No, we're all done… A boxer's fracture? Yeah… they put it in a cast… Probably not… I know... A wall… I don't know, a girl probably…" she looks at me, but I can't tell if she's glaring or not. "No, we're getting lunch now… Yeah… Okay… Yep… Bye."

"What did my dad want?" I ask, pretending to be interested, although I am not. I loath my father at the moment for ruining our conversation. But I can't help but be glad my dad called when he did, that little argument could have escalated fast, like they always do. Seriously though, what the hell is her problem, anyway? I try to be polite, she thinks I am flirting. She seriously needs to lighten up or this is never going to work.

She looks at me with a "what's it to you" kind of look. "Just to see how things went," she answers in a fake sweet tone. I have known her long enough to know when she fakes it.

"Cool," I reply quickly. "Now what the hell are you talking about?" I ask her as if she's crazy. The fact is though, I know what she is talking about, she is technically right, I can flirt without words but com'on, I'm Derek Venturi. But I did not hit on that hostess before. One, she's like sixteen and two, she is not nearly as hot as Casey, trust me.

"Don't play dumb, Derek. I saw that look," she says. Oh my God, is she pouting? Is there any face she makes that doesn't look hot?

"Casey, come on, I don't hit on sixteen year olds." She opens her mouth to reply but I cut her off. "Anymore since I entered college. Besides," I say reaching across the table and place my casted hand on hers and in a clichéd chick flick movie move and say, "why would I want anyone else when I am here with you." Then add that signature Derek Venturi smile and –

"Save it," she scoffs, shoving my hand away from her. I close my eyes as the pain rushes up my arm. She obviously doesn't notice or care that she just hurt me. "I know your lines, Derek. Remember we lived together first."

Damn, I forget she knows every single one of my angles. I've got to switch up my game to get Casey. No matter how sincere my words sound, she knows I've used them before on other girls. Shit, I don't remember it being this hard the first time around.

"If I wanted to be here with anyone else I would be, alright? God. Now stop being a pain in the ass," I tell her picking up my menu. I hear her begin to say something but the waitress saves me from whatever Casey formulated in her head in the past ten seconds to shoot back at me.

"Hi, I'm Rachel and I'll be your waitress, can I get you two something to drink to start with?" she asks in a sweet voice.

"Coke, no ice," I say not looking up from my menu, wouldn't want to eye flirt or whatever with Rachel.

"And for you ma'am?" Rachel asks.

I hear Casey scoff silently to herself before ordering a water and Rachel walks away. I look up to see Casey scowling, I sigh.

"Look, I'm sorry I called you a pain in the ass, although you were being one, can we just enjoy our lunch date-thing, please?" I asked looking over my menu at her.

"It's not that," she replies sadly.

"Huh?" What in God's name is she pissed about now?

"She called me, 'ma'am.'" Casey whines. I can feel my mouth drop and my eyes roll.

"What is wrong with you?"

"What?" she asks setting her menu on the table and looking at me as if I had three heads.

"You are bitching about being called, 'ma'am,'" I explain. Oh, cheeseburgers. Man, I am hungry.

She shrugs, "It makes me feel old," Casey says. I can't formulate a response to that. Old? She's twenty-one, what the hell is her deal today? Rachel returns with our drinks and carefully sets them on the table.

"Are you set to order or do you two need another minute?" she asks again in her sweet voice. I look up at Rachel's smiling face, then to Casey who seems to be engrossed in her menu, reading it carefully as if there is going to be a test on it later. Typical Casey, wouldn't want to make the wrong decision.

"I think we need another minute," I tell her.

"Sure, no problem," Rachel says and turns to leave but I stop her.

"Oh and Rachel," I call, Casey's head pops up from her cram session with her menu and her eye brows raise in confusion. "Do you mind not calling her 'ma'am,'" I request motioning to Casey. "It makes her feel old even though she's just barely out of her teens and you are, I'm sure, just trying to be polite." Casey glares at me.

"Um, okay," Rachel replies looking at me then to Casey as if we are insane, if only she knew, and walks away.

"Was that really necessary?" Casey asks angrily as soon and Rachel is no longer visible.

"Oh my God, Case lighten up."

"Are you deliberately trying to ruin my life today?" she quietly asks, realizing people are now staring at us.

"What?" I ask.

"Deliberately means on purpose," she replies in a snotty tone. I roll my eyes.

"I know what 'deliberately' means, smartass. No, what the hell are you talking about now?"

She glares at me again. "First you barge in on me in the shower and proceed to grope me. Then you get pissed off because I say, 'no.' Then you break Alex and I up and after that had to spend half of my day in the ER and now this."

"Whoa, back up. First off, the shower was not the one-sided grope fest you seem to remember. It's not like I forced you into anything, really. Two, the only reason you said, 'no,' was because your mom almost walked in on us. You chose to tell Alex about me and you and I believe it was your idea to go to the ER and forced me to stay even though I wanted to leave. And this right now, is all you because you are the one being the jealous pain in the ass, even though I have done nothing. Face it, today is all you, Casey."

"No, no. You _chose_ to walk in on me in the bathroom this morning." She's right I could have waited, but... "Then you, of your own volition, punched the wall and I did you a favor by taking you to the emergency room."

"Yeah, I chose to walk into the bathroom, but the other stuff is so your fault," I shoot back.

"Oh yeah, how did I do that? I recall telling you to get out and then not flush the toilet before you leave, how you got, 'Please, Derek come in here and molest me' is beyond me," she says in a sarcastic anger.

"Yeah well you are really sexy when you are wet, angry and naked and I can't control myself when it comes to you," I say a little too loud. The room is considerably a lot quieter than when I began speaking. There are people at nearby booths staring at us and Rachel looking horrified standing in front of our table.

"A-are you r-r-ready to order now?" she stutters nervously with a pen and paper in her slightly shaking hands. God only knows how much she heard. We probably sound like a couple of nutcases. What am I saying sound like?

"Cheeseburger with the works," I say coolly as if nothing was out of order and hand her my menu. I look to Casey and so is Rachel, who is, probably unsure of how to address her.

"Cesar salad, please," Casey ordered politely. Is she blushing?

"Would you like chicken on that?" Rachel asked writing on her note pad thing, not looking at either of us.

"No, thank you," Casey replied in slight disgust as she hands Rachel the menu.

"Okay, that should be up in a few minutes," Rachel says. As soon as she turns and leaves, Casey turns an evil glare at me. The sound in the restaurant has returned to normal and no one is staring at us anymore. I can't help but burst out into laughter.

"I don't see how any of this is funny," Casey snaps. I laugh harder; I mean how can this not be funny? She seriously needs to-

"You need to lighten up, Case," I tell her as soon as I am able to form words. She glares at me again but says nothing.

We sit in angry silence until Rachel sets the food down before us. And tells us to enjoy and then quickly walks away, I think we still weird her out. Casey immediately picks up her fork and knife and begins to cut her salad into "proper bites." Who cuts salad? Hell, who even orders salad as an entire meal? I reach for my burger but stop. I look at my burger, then my casted hand then back to the burger. Now, I know I am not a smart guy but I do know that trying to eat a really greasy cheeseburger with a cast would be a bad idea. Not to mention it's too big to eat with one hand and not even the hand I write with. Casey looks up and sees the dilemma I am having.

"You really didn't think this through, did you?" she asks with a sigh dropping her silverware onto her plate, bowl thing.

"I really wanted a burger," I say.

"Give it here," she says motioning for me to slide my plate over. I do and she grabs my silverware and cuts the burger into four pieces. I can't help but feel six-years-old and having my mom cut my food up for me.

"Thanks, Mom," I say before I can stop myself. I get yet another glare from her before she goes back to eating her salad. Seriously, a salad? There's no meat in it, what's the point? I choose to keep my mouth shut and pick up a piece of burger and eat it with my left hand. It's a bit messy, but I manage.

We eat in silence, there is an awkwardness between us. I don't know why but I can feel it. I am sure even Rachel feels it. She awkwardly walks over a few times during our meal to see how everything is but doesn't make eye contact.

When our meal is over and the check is left, I pick it up and take it to the front counter, making sure Casey follows; I don't want to be left here. I pay with my credit card and make sure to give Rachel a big tip, I feel bad.

We drive home in silence, trying to put the ugliness of the restaurant incident behind us. The ride home seems longer. I lean my head against the window and watch the other passing cars and other stuff in the background, the only sound filling the car is Casey's annoying complaining girly music. I am contemplating changing the station but I dare not risk having my other hand broken by Casey. I need to break this silence that is between us. I want to set things right between us. I mean she did break up with her boyfriend or fiancé or whatever he was. Then again she didn't break up with him to be with me. She just broke up with him because she was cheated on him with me. But still what do I say? Sorry? Never. Crap, we're home. You're losing time, Derek.  
Casey gets out of the quickly and all but jogs to the front door. She is just about to run up the front steps when I yell to her.

"You know you are a hot pain in my ass." Smooth Derek, very smooth.

"What?" she asks, stopping and turning around. That came out weird.

"I said you are hot but a pain in my ass," I repeat walking over to her.

"I'm a hot pain in your ass?" she asks looking at me like I am insane. The second time I said it sounded better. "I don't know whether that is a compliment or a personal problem you should see a doctor about."

"You know what I mean," I tell her.

"No Derek, I don't know what you mean," she says crossing her arms over her chest.

"I-" The door busts open and Dad and Nora appear.

"What happened?" my dad asks pulling my hand and inspecting the cast. Casey disappears into the house.

"I punched the wall in my room," I say. Man that was dumb. I pull my hand away from my dad, his inspection of my cast is painful.

"Why?" Nora asks.

"I don't want to talk about it now," I tell her, walking to the house. It's freaking freezing out here. I walk in and the house is cleaner than when I left this morning. There are streamers and a banner over the fireplace that reads, "Happy New Year!" and some random balloons scattered on the floor, which Lizzie and Ed are blowing up on the couch.

"Hey, the place looks good," I say to my dad and Nora as I shrug off my coat.

"Thanks," Nora says helping me with my coat. "Are you staying for the party tonight?"

"No, my friend Jack is having a party at his place," I tell her.

"Hey, cool cast, Man. Does it hurt?" Edwin asks, looking over my hand.

"Of course it hurts, I punched a wall," I tell him yanking my hand away from him. I need to remember not to do that, it hurts. "Do we have any aspirin here or anything?" I ask to my dad or Nora.

"Yeah, in the kitchen," Nora replies. I take off for the kitchen with Edwin right behind me. I grab the bottle of pain killers off the window ledge over the sink and get a clean glass from the cupboard.

"Why did you punch a wall? That seems kinda stupid, doncha think?" Ed says. I turn to him.

"Ed, I don't want to talk about it right now, okay. Back off," I say more forceful then I mean to. It's not that I don't want to talk about it, I just haven't come up with a good lie yet. I can't tell them the truth. Not when the truth involves me sleeping with my hot pain in the ass step-sister. Ya know, the more I say it the more it does sound like a personal problem.

"Okay, okay, chill Derek," Ed says backing off and leaving the kitchen. I pour some aspirin into my hand and down them with a little water and head off to my room.

I pass by Casey's room on the way to mine. I can't help but feel bad for what happened today. Not like it was my fault entirely but I need to right things between me and her.

I knock my special knock on her door.

"Go away," I hear her yell from inside. But being me, I open the door anyway and poke my head in.

"Did you say, 'come in,' or 'go away?'" I ask.

"Go away," she repeats with anger from her bed.

"Yeah, I heard 'come in," I tell her walking into the room and closing the door behind me.

"No you didn't now get out," she yells throwing a pillow at me. I catch the pillow and make my way over to her bed.

"What is with you today?" I ask placing the pillow back on the bed and sit next to it. She slams the book that she is reading closed and looks at me again with that look that looks like I have three heads.

"You," she replies angrily.

"What? What did I do?" The look never leaves her face. "Alright look I'm sorry for all the crap I put you through today. But you have to admit parts of it did work out for the best." I wait for her to say something, anything. But of course she continues to stare at me like I am insane, if only she knew. "Look we both know that nerd was totally wrong for you."

"Oh?" she replied looking to me for an explanation.

"Yeah, I mean obviously if he was right for you, you wouldn't have ya know with me."

She looks at me like she is going to kill me. The truth is brutal. She sighs in defeat, "I guess you're right." Hah, I win. Derek one, Casey none.

"Of course I'm right, I'm Derek Venturi." And just like that her lightened mood is ruined.

"You're such an ass, Derek," she scoffs throwing yet another pillow at me. Thank God she likes really soft pillows.

"Okay, okay sorry look, go with me tonight."

"What?"

"Come with me to my friend's party tonight." She opens her mouth to protest. "I know our first date was a disaster but I will take you out some place nice for dinner then we can go to my friend's house, whatta say?"

"Why?"

"Why? To uh- ya know make up for all the crap I put you through today. Besides with what's his name not coming tonight you won't be stuck here alone with all of our parents' friends." I watch her as she thinks it over in her head. I am surprised she doesn't get a piece of paper and make a pro/con list or a pie chart or something.

"Okay," she says finally. Yes.

"Okay cool. I am gonna go take a nap or something and then get ready and we'll leave around like eight, okay?" I tell her getting off the bed. She nods. "Okay, I will see you later then."

"Hey Derek?" she calls as I am half way out her door.

"Yeah?" I ask turning around.

"Why are you being so sweet all of the sudden?" she asks, looking really cute and innocent.

"Because… I uh- kinda… like… you," I say and completely exit her room before she can say or do anything. Kinda like her? Oh shit this is bad.


	7. Date with Derek… Again

Author's Note: I know, I know, I am completely sorry for the long delay, I will explain though. School and mental health issues were the main causes. I had sort of a mental break somewhere in February. I almost completely stopped sleeping and had a mental break down one morning about 5 or 6 am. I swear to God I am not making this up. Why would I? Needless to say I have a lot of mental issues that have gone untreated for a long while and well I am working through them currently. I am not looking for pity or anything like that but I wanted to let you all know I was legitimately not trying to cop out on you. Not to mention I have been working on my novella for a creative writing class I am taking, and all the other joys that come along with being a college junior who is majoring in writing. I have been working on this bits and pieces for a while now prior to my troubles. Then I got stuck with this and left it alone for a while then started focusing on school work all while trying to get my brains back in order. Otherwise, enjoy and again sorry for taking so long with this. If it helps, it's a lot longer than chapters usually are so, yeah.

Anyway a special thanks to JanetBanana for the kick-ass editing and SouthernCharm22 for her help in the ending department.

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Chapter 7:

Date with Derek… Again

"Keep quiet,/ Nothing comes as easy as you./ Can I lay in your bed all day?/ I'll be your best kept secret/ And your biggest mistake./ The hand behind this pen relives a failure every day" –"Nobody Puts Baby in the Corner" –Fall Out Boy

* * *

Despite our first attempt at a meal date turned out to be a severe disaster, Casey somehow agrees to give it another go. Can you have two dates with one person in the same day? Or does that count as one really long date? Eh, it doesn't matter; the point is that she is crazy enough to go out with me a second time today. I wonder if I should make sure that girl in the other room is in fact Casey MacDonald? No, even if it isn't I am still going with it.

I climb out of bed after a nice mid-afternoon nap. The pain killers are working nicely, the throbbing pain in my right arm has dulled to a slight pulsing feel. Goddamn this cast itches. I grab a pen and shove it down there trying to reach my itch. I know you're not supposed to do that, I once got broke a pencil off inside my cast I got when I was eight after falling off my bike because good old dad let go before I was ready. Yeah, that's right I didn't learn how to ride a bike without training wheels until I was eight, shut up. Either way, you'd think with all this modern technology stuff they could make a cast that didn't itch. Of course, the pen reaches only the very bottom of where I need to scratch so I have to suffer.

I run a hand through my greasy hair; I need to take another shower since there was no cleaning involved in the earlier one. I sigh as I realize I am gonna have to put a plastic bag over my cast. Not to mention I will have to shower with my left hand. This is gonna be tricky, unless- no, she'll never go for it. Besides the whole family is here.

I shake my head and walk toward my door and downstairs to get some bags and someone to help me tie them on. Crap, I can't get the image of showering with Casey out of my head. Damnit, it's now gonna have to be a cold shower. I walk into the kitchen where Nora is cooking for the party tonight I guess.

"Hey Derek," she says stirring something on the stove. It smells good but it's probably some health food crap.

"Hey," I reply opening up the lower shelves.

"Something I can help you with?" she asks from her place at the stove.

"I need a bag to shower," I reply dumbly. She looks at me strangely. "For my arm," I add holding up my cast.

"Oh right," Nora says, dropping her spoon into her cooking and walks over to where I am assuming we keep plastic bags. There of course was one, but it had a rather large gash up the side. "Oh shoot," she says.

I am about to open my mouth to let out some choice words when she gets this look on her face. "I have an idea." She goes over to the cabinets above the washer and dryer and gets a trash bag. Ah, my ingenious step-mom to the rescue. After shaking it open, she folds it over itself to shorten it and puts my arm in it. Then she folds it back more so it goes just over the cast.

"Hold this, would you please?" she requests before going over to the utility drawer and removes the duct tape.

"Looks good, thanks," I tell her, looking over the wrap job. She smiles at me.

"Good luck," she says before going back over to the stove. Without another word I walk back upstairs to the bathroom and close the door. I make sure to lock it; Casey might try to exact revenge. Actually, I think I will leave the door unlocked; Casey might try to exact revenge.

I remove my clothes as best I can with only one working hand and another hand with a garbage bag over it. I wash my hair quickly, which is surprisingly easier than I thought it would be. Washing other things, like my left arm, was difficult but I managed.

Casey never showed up to get revenge on me for earlier and I can't help but feel a little disappointed. Even if she hadn't come in for more shower sex, she could have come in and helped me wash my hair because that is hard with your left hand when you are right handed. Well at least the garbage bag held up nicely. I wrap a towel around myself and walk back to my room; I will grab my dirty clothes later.

Back in my room, I rip the garbage bag off my arm and drop my towel and pull on the cleanest looking pair of boxers from the floor. What? I'm out of clean ones. I need to get Edwin to do my laundry soon. I go to my dresser to find some nice pants, or at least a clean pair of pants. What, I can't wear two dirty things in the same area… That's gross.

I pull on my pants no problem, when you are a guy like me you master getting your pants on and off with one or less hands. The shirt on the other hand was a problem altogether. Undoing buttons one handed is no problem but doing buttons with your left hand is a problem but I'll manage.

I walk out of my room toward Casey's to "pick her up" for our date. I knock on her door.

"Just a minute," she calls. I can hear her rushing around inside. The door suddenly pulls open and she stands there. She looks good in her low cut sweater and dress pants. She looks me over and smiles. That's right, I look good.

"You missed a few buttons," she tells me and begins to unbutton my shirt. I can feel my face getting red, I hate showing incompetence in front of a girl I like.

"This is a new record for me," I say with my trademark smirk. "I've never actually had a girl undress me before a date."

She scoffs, "In your dreams." She finishes redressing me. "There."

"Thanks, it was hard dressing with one hand."

"You had trouble when you had two hands," she laughs while fixing my collar.

"Let's go, we're gonna be late," I say impatiently, slapping her hand away and walk out of her room and to the stairs. Casey follows close behind and we barrel down the stairs.

"Where are you two going in such a hurry?" Nora asks sweeping the front hallway between the stairs and the front door. "Oh, uh-" Casey starts dumbly.

"Casey's tagging along with me to Jack's party," I tell her. Nora stops sweeping and looks at her daughter.

"What about Alex, weren't you two going to stay here at our party tonight?" There is a quick flash of hurt behind Casey's eyes. I try to formulate a good lie in my head but Casey beats me to the punch.

"Uh, can we talk about this later, we're gonna be late," Casey says and drags me by the hand toward the door.

"See ya later, Nora," I call while being dragged through the door, just barely able to grab my coat.

"What the hell was that all about?" I ask Casey when we get outside. I rotate my shoulder, hoping it will pop back into place.

"Yeah, I haven't told her about Alex yet," she says as we climb into my car.

"What? I figured you two would have a nice after-school special mother-daughter chat about that while I was sleeping."

"I was planning on it but then I realized the explanation might be a bit awkward considering the reason he and I broke up."

"Casey, Casey, Casey. You need to prioritize the information you give in your explanations to your parents," I say as I pull out of the driveway. Casey begins to laugh. "What?" I ask.

"First of all, that's the first time I've ever heard so many big words in one sentence out of you, ever. And secondly, _you_ lecturing _me_ on priorities." She continues to laugh. I fail to see what is so funny in all of this

"All I'm saying is leave out the part about me in your explanation of what you broke up with Alex."

"Derek," she says, no longer laughing, "You _are_ the reason I broke up with Alex."

"So then make up a lie, say _he_ was cheating on _you_."

"I don't lie, Derek. I'm not you."

"You know calling me a liar doesn't hurt me as much as you think it would," I tell her with a wide grin.

When we arrive at the restaurant, some fancy looking Italian place I found in the phone book, I make sure to hold open the door for her. She smiles and says thank you. I think I totally impressed her with that one. I walk over to the host who looks at me with this weird look before checking out Casey. If he doesn't stop I might pop him one.

"Reservations for Venturi," I tell the host, making sure to give him a "stop checking out my girl asshole" look. He looks down to a list on the podium before him.

"Ah yes, right this way," he says in a snooty voice and leads me and Casey to the back of the restaurant. The place is dimly lit with candles on every table, perfect place to romance a pretty girl you are trying to score points with because you caused her break up with her perfect boyfriend/fiancé.

"Here we are," the host said stopping before the table. The jackass pulls out a chair for Casey before I know what's going on. I'm contemplating hitting him, but that wouldn't be a good way to start the second part of my date with Casey.

"Thank you," she says with a polite smile and begins to look over the menu she's handed. Mine is kind of tossed to me by the asshole host.

"Enjoy," he says and walks away after I glare at him.

"Wow, this is a nice place, Derek," Casey comments looking over her menu at me.

"I know. Only the best for my girl," I say with a large grin before looking over my menu.

"Right," she says, "_your_ girl."

As we both read our menus, a busboy comes over and fills our water glasses and leaves a basket of bread on the table. I grab the bread immediately and stuff it in my mouth like I have never seen food before. Probably not the best of moves. Casey stares in disgust.

"What? I haven't eaten since lunch. I'm starving," I say with my mouth full.

"You're not starving," she replies, "so stop acting like a pig."

"Yes, mom," I say mockingly taking a tiny bite of bread. She scoffs.

"If you are going to be this much of a jerk all night you can take me home right now," she tells me with a glare.

"Sorry," I say, "I'm just a bit nervous."

She is about to ask me why when the waiter comes over and saves me. He's a tall, older looking Italian guy with a moustache.

"Ciao, I am Gianni, and I will be your waiter. Can I get you two something to drink? May I suggest the Pinot Grigio," the guy says with a sweet Italian accent.

"What's that?" I ask. Hey, if it's not a type of beer, I have no idea.

"It's a nice white wine. It goes so nice with alfredo and the fish."

I look across the table at Casey who shrugs an agreement. I turn to the older man.

"Sure, we'll take a bottle," I say trying to impress Casey. I really want things to go well tonight, so I'm not going to let a fact like, I have no money stop me. I'll just have my dad help me out when I get my credit card bill.

"Ve bene, Senor. One moment, please," he says after writing down the order and walks away. I can see Casey is impressed, but she doesn't say anything. I look over my menu some more before-

"What are you so nervous about, Derek?" Casey asks, looking at me seriously.

I don't know what to say. I look around for a while, waiting for a distraction. Gianni gets back with our wine in record time so I don't have to answer. He sets two wine glasses down on the table and fills them. He puts the wine before us and puts the bottle on the table. Then he pulls out his note pad.

"Are we ready to order?"

Me and him both look at Casey, I know I'm ready.

"May I get the shrimp alfredo?" Casey orders.

"Si, molto bene, senorita. Very good choice," the old man says with excitement. "Salad?"

"Yes, please," Casey replies and he writes it down on his pad.

"And for you, Senor?"

"Can I get some spaghetti and meatballs?" I ask quietly, slightly embarrassed by my unexciting order.

"Va bene, senor. Salad?" he asks. I nod. "Va bene," he says again and walks away.

"Spaghetti and meatballs? They have a huge selection of food and you go with that?" Casey asks me.

"I stick with what I like." Besides I don't have the money to be adventurous.

"Whatever," she says. "Now answer my question."

"What question was that?" I asked pretending to have forgotten.

"The one about you being nervous."

"I'm nervous? Says who?"

"Says you, now answer," she demands obviously on to my childish games. I sit in silence again, looking at everything but her. I look down at the bread and quickly grab for a piece but she slaps my hand away.

"I don't want to screw this up like I did earlier, because I kind of like you, okay?" I slightly yell in frustration, staring at the table. She is silent for a moment; I look up to see if she is okay or crying or whatever reaction girls make in these situations.

"Well I won't let you screw up this time, because I kind of like you, too," she says with a smile. I smile back and we sit in a comfortable silence until the food arrives.

I steal glances at her every so often throughout the meal and smile.

"Remember that time I went on a date with Emily and you followed us," I asked. I don't know what made me think of that memory or why I decided to mention it.

"Yes, I do. Why?" she asked suspiciously looking at me, knowing I had another motive for bringing it up.

"I don't know I just thought of it because we're on a date and you clearly wanted to be my date that night," I say playfully with a sly grin. Her fork drops into her plate with a loud clang.

"Oh get over yourself, Derek. I only followed you to make sure you didn't hurt my friend." Oh crap she's getting defensive, pull back.

"Admit it you were jealous because you wanted me," I say with a wink, praying she doesn't freak out and storm out of this place in a huff. Casey thinks for a minute, then smiles.

"On the contrary, it was you who wanted me. You were only dating my best friend because you wanted me but I was dating your best friend," she says smiling victoriously.

"Yeah whatever. But I won in the end."

"Yeah, I guess you did."

When we finish eating, Gianni comes back with the bill. I pull out my wallet and hand him my credit card. He disappears with it towards the front of the restaurant. He comes back moments later with my card and a sad look on his face.

"Your card was rejected, Senor," he says handing back my card.

"What? That's impossible try-"

"We tried, Senor. It did not work. Do you have another card perhaps, yes?"

"No, I don't I-"

"Here, try mine," Casey says handing Gianni her card. Damnit, this sucks. Why me?

"Grazie, Senorita," Gianni says walking back to the front of the restaurant. I look down at the table. This is so embarrassing.

"Derek, don't worry about it. I have enough money on my card to cover dinner."

"Yeah, but the guy is supposed to pay."

"Don't worry," she says. "Now I have something to hold over your head and give me the upper hand in our relationship."

"You wish," I told her. Gianni comes back and hands Casey her card back and the receipt for her to sign.

"Grazie, have a nice night," he says and walks away. Could this night get any worse?

It's about ten when we arrive at Jack's apartment. I knock on the door and we wait silently out in the hallway. The floor is vibrating with the music playing within. I turn to say something to Casey, I want to ask her if she's okay with this, I mean with the noise and it's likely the cops will be called. But the door is roughly pulled open before I can open my mouth.

"Hey, Derek," Jack yells, a big drunk grin on his face.

"Hey," I reply trying to match his enthusiasm. I can see him eyeing Casey who stands shyly beside me. "This is Casey," I say motioning to her. Jack licks his lips and reaches out to touch her. I slap his hand away, "She's with me."

Casey giggles as Jack removes his hand and allows us entrance into his house. I turn slightly and grab Casey's hand and pull her in behind me.

The place is crowded and loud. Most of them are drunk; most of the drunken ones are the underclassmen on the team, teenagers. Guys greet me left and right while eyeing my… uh… Casey. I really need to ask her about us. Are we dating again or just step-siblings with benefits? Not that I have a problem with either choice, I mean either way I get laid right?

"Derek," a few of them call my name and I wave to them with my left hand.

"So Derek," Jack says coming up behind me and Casey and puts his hand on my shoulder. "How'd you make out with the doctor on that hand thing?"

I hold up my arm to show him my cast.

"Holy shit, man. What did you do?" he asks, yanking my arm to him. A few of the other guys who noticed me walk in come over to look at my arm, kicking Casey out of the way.

"It's busted," I tell them.

"Fuck man, can you still play?" What's his name asks. Shoot what's his name. Um…Something with a "C" um…

Carl, that's it.

I shake my head sadly. "No."

"What? Are you fucking kidding me?" another freshmen asked. The group of people around me looked a bit sad. Man, I was becoming the buzz kill. I need to change topic fast.

"No, I'm not kidding. But I'm thinking of trying out for the Marlies or something when I get my cast off and shit," I say and the tension I caused within the group around me seems to lift.

"Can I sign your cast, Derek?" some chick in the group asks. Hockey groupie whores, I wave her off, she is in no comparison to Casey.

"Sure, whatever," I tell her without looking over to her. "Besides I'm way too good to be wasting my talent playing with you losers," I joke. They all laugh and some push me and tell me I'm the loser, hardly. A bunch of other people ask to sign my cast too, so I let them.

A while later, I notice Casey is no longer in the crowd of people around me. I get up from the group claiming to need a drink. I find Casey in the doorway of the kitchen with a drink in her hand and talking to Jack. Well she was talking to him, he was flirting with her. I walk instantly up to her and put my arm over her shoulder.

"Hey, babe," I say, kissing her quickly then look over to Jack. "Hey could you get me a drink," I ordered to Jack more than asked.

"Uh, sure man. Beer okay?"

"Fine," I reply and he leaves with his tale between his legs. Casey pulls away from my grasp and looks at me.

"What is your problem?" she asks me, looking angry.

"I'm thirsty and a good host should always get drinks for their guests," I reply casually.

"Yeah well you didn't have to be so rude," she says putting her hand on her hip.

"Well I am not going to exactly be nice to the guy that's hitting on my date."

"We were just talking, Derek. Just because everything out of your mouth to a girl is a line doesn't mean all guys are like that."

I scoff and roll my eyes. I look down into her drink before saying, "God only knows what he put in your drink."

She looks insulted. "For your information, I was there when he poured it for me from the keg. Besides who are you to talk?" she asks. My eyebrow raises.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh don't play dumb. I saw you flirting with the girl signing your cast."

"Okay let's forget for a second you're deranged, I didn't flirt with anyone. She asked to sign my cast and I said, "Sure." I don't see how-"

"Here ya go, Derek," Jack says returning, handing me a cup similar to Casey's filled with beer.

"Thanks, man," I say raising my glass to him and taking a long swig. It's a little bitter but it's cold. I smile at him as he walks away.

"You're an ass," Casey says and walks away from me too. Well there goes my chances of getting lucky tonight, I think before finishing off my beer and going to get more.

I go back over to the group of the adoring freshmen who think of me as a God. I don't feel like dealing with Casey or trying to patch things up right now. I just want to drink and be worshipped.  
I did find Casey a while later when I get up to go to the bathroom and get more beer. She is in another room talking to the other upper classmen's' girlfriends. The Hockey Wives Club, as they were called in the locker room since most of those relationships were serious enough to take the plunge. She notices me too and slightly smiles at me and I wink back at her.

We don't meet up again until the partiers are crowded around the TV just before midnight.

"Three, two, one. Happy New Year," people shouted around us and began kissing each other. Everyone else seems to have someone but me and Casey who on the other hand just stood there, trying not to look at each other and waiting for someone else to come over to us, someone, anyone. This was something we didn't see coming. An overlooked detail, the "what do you do when it hits midnight when you are with your step-sibling/ex?" Shake hands? I mean we never did discuss where I stand with her after technically she chose me over what's his name. And with the bad things that have gone down in the last two hours but, I don't know. Why am I over thinking this I should just-

"Screw it," she says as she grabs the back of my neck and pulls me to her. The kiss is rough and un-Casey like and her tongue is rubbing against mine before I know what's going on.

We stumble into the house, both of us slightly drunk. It's early in the morning, and the house it dark, everyone has obviously gone to bed hours ago. I close the door with more force than needed and Casey giggles and shushes me. I pick her up and swing her over my shoulder.

"No one shushes Derek Venturi in his own home."

"Derek, put me down," she squeals in a whispering tone whacking me on the back. Ignoring her protests, I carry her up the stairs and try to dump her on her bed. And in all my drunken glory, I fall. Okay, okay, I really didn't fall. I may have fallen into her bed on purpose but com'on, I'm only human.

"I had a lot of fun tonight," she admits, "despite you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, pushing up from the comfort of her bed.

"I was kidding, get back here," she giggles and pulls me close to her. I can smell the alcohol on her breath before I kiss her. She rolls us over so she is on top so that her legs straddle mine. Casey sits up and removes her shirt.

"Awesome," I whisper to myself and she leans back in to kiss me, grinding her hips into mine. And I am going to stop there since I gave you all way too much information last time and Casey would kill me if she knew I was telling complete strangers about our sex life.

I hate waking up first, I know I should leave and sneak back into my room but I don't want to. I'd rather lay here with her. I know, I know, cheesy but it's true. The last time I woke up next to her ended badly, remember? We never did have the luxury of actually sleeping together after sleeping together years ago; too much of a risk was involved; that same exists now. But, I hate waking up first, it's so boring. Now I know what you're thinking, I should sit here and watch her sleep because it's so romantic. Well guess what, it's not. It's really creepy. I once had a girlfriend that did that. I woke up and BAM there she was just staring at me. It was creepy, she was creepy. I am almost surprised she didn't stalk me after I broke up with her. Watching people sleeping _is_ post-sex stalking or something. Besides it's boring. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale and so on. I wonder if she will get the wrong idea if I wake her up.

She stirs beside me and lets out a soft, sleep filled groan. She stretched out her naked body and smiles as she opens her eyes. Thank God.

"Good morning," she sighs and kisses me. I mumble a response and pull her closer for a longer kiss. She giggles but does not protest as I roll on top of her. It's morning, I'm a guy, she's naked, you do the math. I like waking up to her not mad at me, it's very rewarding. I am about to enter her when there is a knock at the door.

"Casey, sweetie," Nora calls softly knocking at the door. My heart stops and Casey's eyes bug out of her head.

"Y-yeah?" she calls back, trying not to sound suspicious.

"Can I come in?" Nora asks. Thank God for Nora's respect for her daughter's privacy. Had it been me and my dad this situation would turn into something very bad.

"Hold on I'm changing."

"Oh well, never mind but have you seen Derek?"

I think my heart just stopped or I'm gonna throw up. Casey instantly shoves me off of her and she gets out of bed.

"He's not in his room?" she asks while quickly throwing on clothes.

"I thought I heard him come home with you last night?"

"Um, he should be here somewhere. Did you check downstairs?" she sounds convincing. She picks up my clothes and shoves them at me.

"Yes," Nora says from the other side of the door.

"Well, I don't know what to tell you then. Maybe he's outside?"

"He could be," Nora says as Casey falls over while putting on her pants. "Are you okay in there?"

"I'm fine. I'll be out in a minute," Casey calls to her mother. She turns to me. "You find somewhere else to be," she whispers and shoves me out of view of the door and throws it opens and leaves, closing it behind her.


End file.
